The funny thing about bad days or bad weeks in Year 2 ... they don't compare to bad days or weeks of Year 1. And what's more, I label them "bad" because of the picky and high expectations I now have for a group that I worked tirelessly on last year. Nothing outside of perfection is acceptable, which means frustrations from both ends until we fit the mold I want to see.

That said, this week has been difficult. I find myself back to feeling frustrated quickly for the constant little things that aren't working the way I want, and not recognizing of the good and the growth. As easy as it is for me to own my mistakes and my lackings, it's harder to own my successes and triumphs. Thankfully, however, I am surrounded my strong students, families, and teachers to remind me of how far we've come and how blessed we are - how appreciated and blessed I am.

My colleagues, especially the Walbridge 7, are a special kind of family for me. Sometimes we vent on and with one another, sometimes we gripe, sometimes we celebrate, sometimes we BS our way through the free times, and sometimes we invest in some very unproductive, unhealthy but worth it celebrating. And the rest of the time, we are simply one of the strongest networks I have ever known or hoped to have known.

I have been a person blessed with many friends - and no, the "Godfather" soundbite was unintentional, though I guess it works. I have always had the most caring and supportive friends and family who have gotten me through the highest of highs and lowest of lows. But never did I expect to have that here in my work, in the most stressful, strenuous, emotionally exhaustive and gratifying work I've experienced. When I was decaying from life last year, when I had my fall apart moments and tearful pitfalls, I never felt alone at my school. There is a love, respect, and sense of unity there that makes my experience what it is.

Yesterday, we attended a supply drive and each school team leader spoke a little bit about our mission/experience and gave thanks. Dave got up and talked about how his investment in TFA has changed with his second year - it's not just about closing the gap, it's not just about how in love we are with our kids or our investment in our passion, but it's also about the group of us. We know how special we are.

Today, after a not-bad-not-good day, one of my great friends who teaches with me, Jordan, shared with me a piece of kindness from her and one of my parents that literally made my day, my week. There is a sincerity in our belief in one another and our care for one another's happiness and success that runs deep. It penetrates our friendships, our teaching, and the way in which we touch our students and their families.

I love my kids. I love my kids' parents. I love my co-teacher. I love my job. And I love, I cherish, my Walbridge family. Thanks guys, for everything.

When we consider all of the relevant factors for the (thus far) sustained achievement gap, we look at points of responsibility from this inside out and every where in between. Is it the country? The state? The city? The district? The administration? The staff? The teachers? The neighborhoods? The families? The students?

If you haven't read me yet, you know I believe that every facet plays a part in both the successes and the failures, the mistakes and the profound discoveries. I take blame for the things I could have done and could have changed but did not, and I have to accept responsibilities for the things I do right, from time to time. But I also find the frustrations that onlookers see: Why is our society exponentially growing more advanced while our childrens' education equally plummets with expectations and levels of academia dropping each year?

One thing I had heard before taking on my first year of teaching in non-affluent was that summer was a huge source for the widening of the gap, especially in those early years of education. Think about your summers in elementary school. Here's what I see: imaginations rampant, activity books and coloring books with scattered crayons about the floor, Highlights magazines, movies, hide-and-seek, and reading with my parents. Sound familiar? Or not?

For many of my students and others in less afluent schools, the scenerio changes when the bell rings. Many students will not read another work after stepping out of the classroom and into the June sunshine for summer vacation. They will not socialize with their friends. They will not see so much as a book, a pencil, or a crayon. They will not talk to their parents about their favorite stories or play with legos and blocks and practice telling time or writing in their diaries.

For this reason, while students in affluent schools continue to grow over the summer months, students in the gap actually reverse during those breaks without text-rich walls and friends and fun puzzles to stimulate their minds.

I wanted to know why. My parents didn't have buckets of money to throw at me in my earliest years, but I grew over the summer. We read our books, I wrote, I made up stories, I did puzzles for fun and played school at home with my friends. My parents valued my education in a way that kept them engaged in my academic growth in their own time over the summer. Why do so many of my kids not have this kind of non-monetary access?

There are several reasons, but any way you look at it, the data says it all. After giving even simple, brief diagnostics this week, I see the dichotomy between the growth of children with involved parents, and the fall back of students who don't seem to have the same support at home. The students who attended camp, spent afternoons browsing the colorful bookshelves of the library, or simply had access to their parents and other children grew, if every so slightly. The students whose parents I never see, who do not have pencils and paper at home, who are behind and lack focus in school - they not only failed to grow, but were actually up to 1 year behind what data showed only 2-3 months ago.

Yes, much of this is the "lack of practice" idea - the students need to get back into school mode. It's like when you haven't written much all summer and then all of a sudden your handwriting isn't what it used to be. But that's also a problem - that many of these students have not looked at anything they learned for an entire year since I saw them last. They have not seen an analog clock, they have not counted money, they have not sorted objects, they have not put the pieces of a puzzle together.

I am proud to see the growth of my students since August of lack year, as the majority moves from the bottom up, but I regret the time apart. One charge for myself this year: find ways to trigger the students to find academic possibilities at home and outside of the classroom; come up with ideas for simple, free activities students can do on their own at home; organize projects that engage students in an academic-nonacademic mindset. I want to prepare them to be their own teachers when I cannot be with them.

How do we make our students lifelong learners, even in the present?

And how to we, at the very least, kill the summer gap? For good?

Was it because of the well-executed start of day by the staff? Was it because teachers had set expectations and procedures that were relentlessly modeled, practiced, and positively reinforced all day? Was it because students were truly invested in their education and excited to be back in their school? Was it because only half of the enrolled students were in attendance? Was it because the students, for the most part, came back to a familiar face leading their classroom?

Whatever the reason, there was something different about Walbridge today, and something different about the way I felt walking through the halls, welcoming students, and being on my feet. And it's a difference that is truly appreciated, something I will try to pursue every following day, regardless of the hurdles that are surely headed my way tomorrow.

When I went to pick up my students, the familiarity changed the atmosphere. I called my kids to roster as I saw their faces. And my boys and girls lined up, without my prompting, into their usual two lines (boys line and girls line) right at my feet and standing in HALL (our school's hall procedure). It was nothing short of miraculous, let me tell you.

The day went well, with routines picking up where they left off and the kids, thankfully, as excited about returning favorite as my trial runs of new ideas. The question on all of their minds was where Nemo was (our class fish) and if I'd killed him over the summer. No, I did not. Another blessing I'm counting.

I was determined this year to be organized, plan ahead, and stern in my expectations, and so far I think I'm off to a good start. I can't pretend it wasn't hard to keep the cold face on some things and not be totally giddy about seeing their faces again. It was so good. And it was the biggest sigh of relief that I felt like myself as a teacher, I felt natural as a teacher - last year I struggled with feeling like me, today I felt like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

And it was wonderful to see what the kids remembered about the things that I taught them - ME. John remembered contractions and the word for them, Chuma remembered what the stars and stripes on the flag represented, Chris remembered multiplication, and Dashaun remembered how many spelling words he had last year - and how he wants MORE this year :)

I let it slide that they thought I was from South California instead of South Carolina, but ZaNay corrected the class: "She's from NORTH CAROLINA, she went to college in SOUTH CAROLINA!"

Two of my most challenging really gave it their all today, being the best examples of behavior and enthusiasm of the class - and I was sure to let them know. And their parents. I was so proud, and even prouder that they had an air of maturity about them that wasn't there during my first day one last year.

I am anticipating the terrible days, I am ready for the behavior troubles, I am prepared for the emotional breakdowns, But I'm also eager for the growth, excited about the changes I continue to see, and incredibly anxious for the moments of real teacher, when the lights turn on, and they dig in.

At the end of the day we had a class meeting about positives and changes (pluses and deltas, a TFA thing) and they loved it. They were also more critical of their behavior than I even was: "Ms. Davis, I wasn't respectful when I called out. And I need to work on my attitude. But I had great HALL all day and we listened well all day."

Rewards and consequences start tomorrow ... let's see how it goes. I'm still leaving room for a system to really fit in ... trying to go more for personal responsibility than, as A.J. says "ostracizing the kids in front of the whole class" with cards to pull. And there goes that neverending to-do list that takes its place in my life this time of year ... but I'm happy, even if the storm is just on the horizon :)

Number 2 pencils, copy paper, overflowing to-do lists, bulletin boards, fresh nametags - it's time for school to start again!

This last week teachers everywhere have either been starting class, preparing their classes, and/or sitting through sessions on how to do what they are already doing, all for the sake of education. A week of professional development, decorating my classroom, and making notes upon notes of outcomes and plans I want for my students this year has left me sore, exhausted, and absolutely reinvigorated.

Starting Monday my 206 WHOs will be back at school as third-graders. The nerves before the first day of school are worse for teachers I think, as we anticipate who are students will be, what they remembered from last year, if they are as excited to see you and you are to see them. I look at the roster I have in front of me and I'm filled with excitement, fondness, and even a little sadness. I know about one-third of that list will not be sitting in my classroom Monday, and all for different reasons. Homelessness has left one or two out of Walbridge this year, foster care has changed the address for others, and the mobility of the neighborhood is the dominant factor in the cases of most of the others. For some, it's a happy move, for others, I worry. I just hope all of my kids have a teacher that loves them and a home that supports them this year.

So the big question - am I ready? I have thought about this question, though about what being ready would actually be, what it would look like, feel like. My decision? I don't think I would ever feel truly ready - the work of a teacher never ends, no to-do lists are ever crossed out. Ever. But I do think I am more prepared, emotionally and professionally. I am stronger this year, I am a little more seasoned, a little more experienced, and a little more enlightened. And yet, already my lofty goals are getting the best of me as I consider long-term plans in every area of their academic and emotional lives, from communication arts and math to science and social studies, to technological savvy and community awareness and character education. And everything in between. The biggest goal is to articulate my goals, and keep them controlled. One problem with this bleeding heart and head full of clouds and rainbows ... it just keeps going.